


in all the old familiar places

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, Dancing, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, World War II, it's really sweet ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23168668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Howling Commandos are asleep, the radio is playing a Billie Holiday song, and Steve and Bucky are awake. What else is there to do but dance?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 78





	in all the old familiar places

**Author's Note:**

> hi school's closed for two weeks because of the coronavirus so i'm writing fic!! i hope you enjoy this little drabble/one shot. please feel free to drop a request in the comments or request me on tumblr @galactichan !

Sparks fly above their makeshift fire. Glowing orange embers rise above the flames, only to flicker out silently after they float too high. 

The Commandos are all sat around it, giddy and laughing, telling stories of great heroics and terrible blunders. The bottle of scotch that Dugan’s passed around only adds to the laughter. At least the fire and the alcohol keep them warm as they stay in the destroyed French town. It’s all the comfort they have; the scotch, and their small radio, perched beside them on a pile of rubble. 

Steve and Bucky were sitting next to one another, their faces glowing in the amber light of the fire, and they were in the middle of the latest story.

“That is  _ not _ how it happened,” Steve interjected at one of Bucky’s points, shaking his head slowly and lifting the scotch bottle to his lips. Despite the serum blocking him from getting drunk, he swore he felt  _ something _ —a buzz, perhaps. A warmth spreading in his middle. Or was he just imagining it?

“It is so!” Bucky squeaked in reply, shaking his head back. “Your dumb ass got  _ handed _ to you, Stevie.” He managed between laughter. 

“I got a couple of swings in!”

“Uh huh,” Bucky grabbed the bottle from Steve, tilting his head back to take a swig, “if by ‘got a couple swings’ you mean ‘missed entirely until I rescued you’.” He threw Steve and sidelong glance, mouth perking into a smirk. A famous Bucky grin that Steve loved so much: his eyes glinting devilishly, the apples of his cheeks rounding.

Steve’s own cheeks flooded with a rosy heat, if from Bucky’s comments or the cold, he couldn’t tell. He clucked his tongue and let out a long sigh. “Alright, alright. I got my ass handed to me.”

“Sure did.” Bucky took one last sip of the scotch before handing it to Dernier beside him. 

They all snickered and listened to Steve and Bucky playfully bicker, quietly watching their back and forth little game. The Commandos found it quite funny, actually; watching them both flirt and then turn red. Dugan and Jones especially enjoyed watching their tough old Sergeant Barnes turn to putty whenever Steve was around. They made sure to tease him about it, only when Steve had walked away, of course.

Tonight they’d gotten bolder, though. Between the scotch and the laughter and the Commandos’ one-off teasing, their flirting had only gotten more obvious, their glances became more drawn out. 

So once the radio started playing a slow Billie Holiday song, after all of the Commandos had drank themselves to sleep, they decided to  _ really _ be daring. They stood up, sneaking away from their snoozing friends, trying to find a good spot to dance. 

“You gonna lead or are you gonna make me do it?” Bucky asked, eyes shifting up to Steve’s as he took his hand, a chuckle rolling off of his lips.

“Shut up, Buck,” Steve retorted right back, fingers skimming Bucky’s waist as he pulled him closer. It wasn’t the first time they’d done something like this. It was just usually in Steve’s secluded tent, and not out in the open, in front of the team. They were usually alone, and if it escalated, they had the privacy of khaki green cotton canvas and rain to protect them. Granted, the guys were passed out, but that didn’t matter. Their tipsiness had gotten to the better of them tonight. No going back now.

The gravel below them crunched with their swaying, their heavy boots shifting as the song progressed. Bucky allowed himself to rest his head on Steve’s chest, just for a moment. His eyes drifted shut, lashes fluttering against the fabric of Steve’s tunic. The quiet overtook them. Nothing but two lovers and the sound of a tinny radio playing a love song. It seemed as though the station picked it  _ just  _ for them; knew it was the perfect moment.

The moonlight illuminated Bucky’s face as Steve looked down at him, dark chestnut hair sprawled down on his forehead. The highlights of his hair glistened blue, and when he looked up to meet his gaze, Steve’s knees nearly went weak. He could spend an eternity in the universe of Bucky’s eyes. 

The song started to fade, hazing out in the background of the crackling fire. “Steve,” Bucky mumbled, the side of his head pressed back to the space between Steve’s collarbone and chest. His fingers shifted in Steve’s hand, brushing over his knuckles.

“Hm,” Steve replied, eyes fixed off in the distance, ignoring everything around him but Bucky; the way he moved, the warmth of his body, of his hands, the rhythm of his breathing. The subtle nuances in Bucky’s every shift and sway were practically memorized. Not like they weren’t already.

“The song’s over.” He said, voice barely above a whisper. He stopped swaying, standing still now.

Reality was forced back. Steve could no longer ignore his surroundings, and was back in France, in the middle of rubble, his team sleeping ten feet away from him. He was no longer in the safety of his tent, or a bedroom in Brooklyn. No matter how much he wanted to be. 

“Oh.” Was all Steve mustered, head turning back down to Bucky, the hand on his waist creeping up to cup his cheek. He didn’t want to let go, not now.

Bucky’s lips curled into an audacious smile, cheeks warming in Steve’s hands. His heart floated on air, but at the same time pounded against his ribs, making his breath hitch. Only Steve would make him like that. Only Steve would  _ ever  _ make him like that. And he wanted it that way.

Steve leaned in, nose poking against the roundness of Bucky’s cheek before they properly kissed, lips pressed together firmly. They had to keep their desire to a minimum; they both knew that this couldn’t escalate past what they were doing right now. Gone was the tent, and the warm sheets of the bedroom, and skin under searching, experienced hands.  _ God _ , it’s all what both of them wanted now. They pulled away at the same time, breathing out deeply and leaning on one another. 

The war was going to consume them. It was tearing both of them apart from the inside out, but little moments like this, even if only fleeting, made it all worthwhile.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> send me a request! tumblr: @galactichan


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